


watching still living roots be consumed by the flame

by aletterinthenameofsanity



Series: author's favorites [65]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Addiction, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Asexual Character, Asexual Raphael Santiago, Blood, Catholic Character, Character Study, Drug Withdrawal, Happy Ending, Jewish Character, M/M, Muslim Character, Non-Linear Narrative, POV Raphael Santiago, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, but only at the very end of this story, in places, religious vampires and how they function, same thing when it comes to vampires, well blood withdrawal but you know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-10 11:22:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18659437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aletterinthenameofsanity/pseuds/aletterinthenameofsanity
Summary: Raphael’s fellow vampires often describe drinking blood to be equivalent to something sexual.Raphael’s never understood that analogy. Perhaps that’s because he lacks the grounds to make the comparison.All he knows is that blood from an animal tastes like ash in his mouth, blood from a human tastes like a home-cooked meal, and blood from Isabelle Lightwood-It tastes like fucking home.-Simon Lewis can’t say God yet. Raphael’s Catholic ‘til his dying breath, but Joshua on the third floor of the hotel still prays to Yahweh, two hundred years after his turn. He’s learned how to say his old prayers and ignore the pain of the holy words on his lips.Nesreen on the second floor is Muslim, turned eighty years ago. She still wears her hijab. She still kneels at the five points of the day.The prayers burn their lips on the worst days, but they don’t stop. They keep going.(They have to. It’s been decades, sometimes centuries, since their turns, but they have to continue having faith. They have to continue believing.Some days, it’s the only thing that makes them still feel human and not like the monsters they all know they are, deep inside.)





	watching still living roots be consumed by the flame

**Author's Note:**

  * For [felinedetached](https://archiveofourown.org/users/felinedetached/gifts).



> Title is from "Would That I" by Hozier.
> 
> Daylighter twist just...doesn't happen in this version of events, okay? Things go just a bit divergent for Simon before the events in the Institute in 2x20, and instead we get the events of the latter section of this fic.
> 
> Also, I like Sizzy, don't get me wrong, but I always wanted (and kind of needed) to write this story and just never could find the words at the time that Season 2 was airing. So here it is, years later.

_You wanted to feel alive, right?_

_It doesn't matter if you're monster or human._

_Living hurts._

**― Victoria Schwab**

 

Raphael’s fellow vampires have often described drinking blood to be equivalent to something sexual, the pull of liquids, the craving and the release.

Raphael’s never understood that analogy. Perhaps that’s because he lacks the grounds to make the comparison, he lacks the basis to equate blood-drinking to something so sexually based. He has no idea what an orgasm feels like, no idea how it feels to want to engage in... _relations_ with someone.

All he knows is that blood from an animal tastes like ash in his mouth, blood from a human tastes like a home-cooked meal, and blood from Isabelle Lightwood-

It tastes like fucking home. It tastes like his Mama’s tacos and enchiladas and quesadillas. It tastes like horchata coating his throat, like spiced hot chocolate when they could afford it. It is the sound of mariachi music and church hymns, the smell of the ocean and baking corn tortillas.

 _Dios_ , it tastes like love and memory _._

He wants to stop, he really does. He knows better. He knows how addictive Nephilim blood is.

But he drinks her blood and he wants to weep. When he’s tasted her blood, when there are still angelic purities running through his veins, he can wear a cross against his skin without it burning. He can step foot into a church, because even if he can’t go past the sanctuary he can still step into the main hall, have his booted feet on hallowed ground again.

Making the sign of the cross doesn’t hurt, not anymore. Not like it did in the first few years. It doesn’t even leave him sore, this many years out.

But a crucifix? Any actual material cross? No, he can’t bear it against his skin. He’s never been able to.

But on Isabelle’s blood, he can, and by _Dios_ , he actually feels human in a way he hasn’t felt in years.

-

Simon Lewis can’t say God yet. Raphael’s Catholic ‘til his dying breath, but Joshua on the third floor of the hotel still prays to Hashem, two hundred years after his turn. He’s learned how to say the words to his old prayers and ignore the pain of the holy words on his lips.

Nesreen on the second floor is Muslim, turned eighty years ago. She still wears her hijab. She still kneels at the five points of the day.

The prayers burn their lips on the worst days, leave them unable to speak above a whisper, but they don’t stop. They keep going.

(They have to. It’s been decades, sometimes centuries, since their turns, but they have to continue having faith. They have to continue believing.

Some days, it’s the only thing that makes them still feel human and not like the monsters they all know they are, deep inside.)

-  

Some vampires still have sex, to this day. It can’t turn Mundanes, though most Mundanes avoid them anyway, even when they don’t know what they are. To Mundanes, vampire skin tends to feel almost unnaturally cool, and it often turns them off.

He supposes it’s almost a fetish thing, to decide to willingly have sex with a vamp. He doesn't get it, but whatever. Other vampires enjoy having sex with Mundanes, and it makes them feel human, so he doesn't begrudge them that as long as they remember to follow the Accords, as much as he hates them.

Cynthia on the fourth floor is also asexual, and she understands his lack of understanding. They get together, sometimes, when Camille isn't busy and then afterwards a lot more often. They talk about a shared lack of connection to their fellow vampires, about this yet other way they can't quite feel human.

At least his asexuality isn't a new way, so though it made him feel unnatural when he was human, it almost reminds him of being human nowadays. It's something that hasn't changed, despite the fact that his appetite for blood has.

-

The Shadowhunters betray him. Simon betrays him.

(Simon, the fledgling who had had such a hope and drive and who Raphael had fucking  _trusted_. The one who'd he'd put so much faith and hope in that he shouldn't have.)

Then the Acting Head of the Shadowhunters brings him in and tortures him.

The sun is concentrated over his skin and it burns like a crucifix and the words of God never did. It destroys his flesh, ruins him, sears him straight to the bone-

This must be what Heavenly Fire feels like. This must be what the fires of Hell itself- the ones that Raphael is probably going to get to experience firsthand, if he ever actually dies- feel like. 

Raphael doesn’t beg Aldertree. He doesn’t cower. He doesn’t betray the people he cares about.

Camille- he never cared about her. But Joshua, Nesreen, Cynthia, all the rest- those he cares about. Those people he protects and loves.

He won’t give them up, not to some member of the Clave. Not to some Shadowhunter who is abusing his power and corrupting the Accords.

Raphael has sinned enough- he will not betrayal and cowardice be added to the list.

-

Raphael staggers into Magnus' apartment, collapsing forward, and Magnus catches him, just as he always does, just as he has since the first days, when he picked Raphael up off the streets with he was addicted to Mundane blood.

Magnus supports him just as he always has, like the father Raphael never had. His healing magic feels like cool water over Raphael's burns, lending an almost sweet sensation to alleviate the horror Raphael just weathered. 

Simon arrives while Magnus is healing them, and they fight even as they help Magnus out. Raphael can't help but resent Simon's betrayal of the Hotel and of himself, selfishly.

But at the end of the day, Simon starts to understand the lengths to which the Shadowhunters are willing to go to in order to suppress and hurt Downworlders, and Raphael hopes he's gained a bit more respect for Raphael in the process.

- 

Raphael stops drinking from Isabelle, and it’s absolute hell.

He’s been through withdrawal before, back when he first Turned, back when he was addicted to Mundane blood. He knows what's going to happen, just how bad it can be. He has a feeling that this withdrawal will be even worse, due to the power of Nephilim blood.

He almost goes to Magnus again. He almost asks his father-figure, the closest thing he has to family, to help him.

But Raphael knows that he went into this addiction knowing what could happen. Yes, at first, he tried to resist drinking from the Lightwood girl, but he _knew_ what could happen when he caved to the temptation of her injured arm. He knew how hard he would fall and how hard it would be to recover.

So instead he appoints Nesreen as his temporary acting head and locks himself in his room so that way he can get through this. 

He can no longer go to a priest for reconciliation, and this is the next best thing. This is his punishment. This is his penance. This pain- this is how he makes up for the wrong he has committed.

Raphael lays in bed, a single bag of regular blood next to him, and he recites his prayers, ignoring his burning lips, as Isabelle Lightwood’s blood filters out of him.

For six days his body cycles through periods of utter agony and periods in which he almost recognizes himself, where he almost feels like Raphael Santiago, head of the Brooklyn Clan. In the times where he’s lucid, he recites bible verses. They don’t burn any more than the Nephilim blood leaving his system does, and they provide a source of comfort beyond the eternal cycles of hell and humanity.

He tells himself stories. Noah. David. Job. Eve. Jacob. Rachel. Peter. Solomon. Esther, a personal favorite. Stories of tragedies and happy endings alike, stories that have survived the years, stories that remind him of humanity.

Raphael knows his bible stories. He knows the significance of numbers. He knows, as he counts the passing days, what each day means.

On the seventh day, God rested, declaring all that he had created good, as he intended it to be.

On the seventh day, Simon Lewis arrives.

-

"By Lilith," Simon shouts, because he hasn't been a vampire long enough to learn how to move the word "God" past his lips. He runs into the room, laying a cool hand against Raphael's forehead- which in any other circumstances, would be as cold as Simon's flesh, but right now is on fire. "Raphael, what happened to you?"

"Withdrawal," Raphael says, too tired to keep up a brave facade. He'll deal with the fact that Simon has gotten to see him in such a vulnerable position later on. "From Nephilim blood. Hurts like a bitch."

Simon's face falls. "Fuck, did a Shadowhunter do this to you?" 

Well, at least he's finally learned how to distrust the Shadowhunters- thank _Dios_.

"Just go," Raphael sighs, though he is unable to even sit up and make this command stick. "Go back to wherever you're staying now. You've done nothing but betray us. Go back to your Shadowhunter friends."

"I'm not leaving again," Simon says, "Not right now, not while you're in pain. I don't care if you hate me for everything- just, please let me help you, Raphael. I want to do something good for someone else."

And Raphael doesn't have the strength or willpower to push him away, not when fire is ripping through his veins.

So Simon sits there, and holds Raphael's shaking hand, and feeds him small sips from the blood bag.

Raphael falls asleep with Simon's hand in his, the blood pounding through him. 

-

He awakens briefly to the blood simmering in his veins, almost a raging fire but not enough to send him writhing in pain. Instead, he is able to hear Simon's voice.

Simon is reciting a prayer- one that Raphael recognizes as one of the ones that Joshua uses on a regular basis, one in Hebrew. He doesn't know the words, but he knows that some of the words must be burning Simon's lips.

And yet, he keeps going. He keeps praying, for Raphael.

Raphael slips back into unconsciousness with hope tempering the cycle of pain.

-

The clouds part on the twelfth day.

-

When Raphael finally wakes up without his very veins threatening to burn him alive, he finds Simon slumped asleep against the bed, his head pillowed on his arm with his other hand still clutched in Raphael's.

Raphael is himself again, for whatever that's come to mean. His blood is his own (well, as much as it can be). It is no longer ripped apart by heavenly fire.

Simon slowly stirs, blinking open bleary eyes. "You're better," he says with a small smile.

Raphael snorts. "That's one way to describe it," he says, still feeling aches in his bones from all the shaking his body did while going through withdrawal. Well, at least the fire's gone. "Now, fledgling- why are you here?"

Raphael doesn't dare hope for a good answer. After all of Simon's betrayals, after the way he looked Raphael in the eye, made that promise, and then broke it, how can Raphael have the same hope he did when he first named Simon his advisor months ago?

"The Clave- that they did stuff like this to you twice over- that's wrong. What they've done to the Downworld- it's not right. I came to talk to you about fully allying myself, in whatever way I can, to do whatever I can to help you."

"What about the Fairchild girl?"

Simon's face is pained, but he shakes his head. "Clary and I...we're not like we used to be. She's a Shadowhunter and I'm a Downworlder and she doesn't understand that I have new loyalties now. That I'm  _different_ , and that I have to have new loyalties. Because being a vampire- well, it's taken me awhile to realize, but being a vampire means that I have to help other people like me. I can't just try to be alone and turn my back on you guys in some attempt to be Mundane again. I have to be more than my past."

Simon came home, if only for this moment. He is the prodigal son returned, the traitor intent on making up for his mistakes.

If withdrawal was Raphael's penance, his attempt to make up for his sins, this is Simon Lewis' penance. This is how he can make up for his mistakes.

"I can always use you around," Raphael says, remembering Simon's enthusiasm for being a vampire, for helping out anyone as much as he can.

And Simon's face breaks into the widest grin Raphael's ever seen, baring his fangs. "Thank you. Oh, g-" He stutters over the unspeakable word, but keeps going. "Thank you, Raphael. All I want is to help." 

Raphael doesn't smile, but that doesn't mean he doesn't have the urge to. "Now mind getting me some more blood?"

"Of course," Simon says, and stands up. He glances down at their entwined hands, tangled fingers catching him from leaving, and stares at them for a full three seconds before eventually letting go. "Be right back."

Raphael almost misses Simon's cool hand in his as the not-quite-fledgling leaves the room.

-

Simon says the word "God" for the first time a week later, in the middle of talking to Eve, a twenty-years-Turned vampire, about a simple game they call "D&D," and it takes Simon a couple of moments to even realize it. Once he does, his words stutter to a halt and he lets out a small yelp of glee.

"Oh my God!" he nearly shouts, excitement clear. "I can say  _God_!"

His wince as he says the word is clear, but he doesn't seem to care. Raphael didn't really, either, in his first few weeks after making that discovery. It had been his first step to feeling human again, after Magnus had helped him through his addiction (the first one, to Mundane blood). It was his first step to feeling like himself again, in this strange new world. The burning hadn't mattered.

So Raphael smiles. Simon, even after all his mistakes, deserves happiness just like the rest of them. He deserves to feel as human and as normal as he can.

A moment later Simon is hugging Raphael. "Thank you," he says, burying his face into Raphael's shoulder. The angle is a bit strange, due to their near equivalent heights, but Simon doesn't seem to care. "Thank you so much."

Raphael raises an eyebrow at the outburst of emotion. Eve, thankfully, leaves, though she gives him a strangely knowing smile. "Thanks for what?"

"Letting me come back." 

-

Raphael can't step foot into churches anymore. He can't speak the name of God without his lips burning. But he has Simon by his side, now- which honestly could be a good or a bad thing when Isabelle Lightwood comes knocking on the door to the Hotel.

When he sees her, he has Simon by his side and for a moment, just a moment, he has doubts whether Simon will continue to stay by his side. Will Simon just go with the Shadowhunters, as he always has, or will he actually take a stand and be loyal as he promised?

Isabelle, however, holds up a hand in surrender. "I'm not here to do anything," she says, eyes wide and almost earnest, but he's been fooled by that look before so he'll withhold any sort of trust. "I'll stay outside of the Hotel, I won't step foot inside, I just want to tell you something."

"Why should he trust you?" Simon asks, not quite indignant, but not as easily swayed as before.

"Because I just want to apologize," she says, looking to Raphael. "That's it, I swear. I abused your trust and took advantage of you and it was incredibly wrong of me to do so. I'm so sorry, Raphael."

It doesn't solve anything, make any of the hurts less. It doesn't take away the addiction, the fire that burned his veins, the penance he had to make for giving into the temptation of her. It doesn't take away the fact that she and the other Shadowhunters were the reasons why Camille escaped, why Simon betrayed the clan, why Simon was left alone in the dangerous first weeks of being a fledgling.

"Why are you deigning to apologize when you never did such a thing when you betrayed us before?" Raphael asks, and Isabelle winces. He doesn't take satisfaction from the motion, but it is good to see that she realizes her own past mistakes.

"We're trying to be better, now," Isabelle says, "Me and Jace and Clary. Alec's been doing better for a lot longer than we have, but even he's trying his best to mend things between the Downworlders and the Shadowhunters. And I know that I don't deserve your forgiveness, that you probably won't give it anyway, but I wanted to start  _showing_ that we're trying to do better." She gives him a small, almost wry smile. "And it's a lot easier to do that when you're not battling a Yin Fen addiction."

And then Isabelle Lightwood, eternally composed and confident, fidgets, fingers playing with the hem of her shirt, and Raphael has to look twice at her. She's a bit skinnier than she was before, dark circles under her eyes and skin somewhat paler than usual. Her hand, still help up in surrender, trembles just the smallest bit. She's going through withdrawal too.

And no, it doesn't make Raphael any likelier to forgive her, but it does make him sympathize. He knows withdrawal and its effects all too well. It's been three weeks since he woke up to Simon holding his hand and the last of the Nephilim blood out of his system, and he's still a bit off. He's had the support of a few friends- Cynthia, Nesreen, Joshua, and of course Simon- but he assumes that Isabelle probably has had not a single one due to the fact that she has been consorting with Downworlders to feed her addiction. Perhaps that strange brother of hers, the one Magnus has decided to date, has supported her, but beyond that- well, Raphael has doubts she'd tell anyone else about her vulnerability. Shadowhunters aren't exactly looked well upon for their sins and failures, after all.

So no, he won't forgive her. She took advantage of him and abused his trust. But he  _is_ willing to watch her get better and give her a chance to prove herself.

"Alright," Raphael says. "I won't forgive you," he says, and her face slumps- well, as much as a Shadowhunter's can. "But I will give you the chance to prove what you're saying."

Isabelle gives him a small, hopeful smile. "Thank you," she says, relief clear in her voice.

-

Simon and Raphael can't enter the church or the synagogue, but they can go to Hunter's Moon on Friday and Sunday nights to say their respective prayers and drink blood-laced (non-alcoholic) beverages afterwards.

Raphael keeps the Sabbath, as he has for decades now, and so does Simon. Their sabbath days might differ- Simon's  _shabbat_ falls on Friday nights, while Raphael's Sabbath falls on Sundays- but the principle and the shared understanding is still there. The tradition and their faith makes them feel human.

It's on one of these Sabbath day visits that Simon leans in and presses a kiss to Raphael's lips. It's sweet and cool and tastes just a bit like blood.

And  _Dios_ , it makes Raphael's blood sing. It doesn't burn, like the withdrawal did- no, this feels like a kinder version of what Nephilim blood does.

Raphael has never wanted sex, but kisses? The enthusiastic hugs that Simon likes to give? Those he likes. Those he can definitely learn to get used to.

(Those make him feel human. Those- like the man that gives them- are reminders of what it's like to be loved, to have faith and hope again.)

Simon leans back, eyes bright and hopeful. "Was that okay?" he asks, hesitation clear despite his obvious hope. He nervously nibbles a bit on his lips, his upper fing scraping lightly against his bottom lip.

Raphael manages to tear his gaze away from Simon's lips to give him a small, fond smile. " _Si_ ," Raphael says, "That was more than okay."

And Raphael leans back in and captures Simon's lips again.

 

_believe in the mouth,_

_in the bottom lip trembling beneath your thumb,_

_suddenly something holy,_

_suddenly something loved._

**-emily palermo**

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is approximately two-ish years late, but eh. The anniversary of my first Shadowhunters fic is coming up and the newest episode gave me all the feels and I just love my CANON ACE Raphael so much I just had to write. Also, Catholic guilt is totally a thing, kids. Though I'm not as faithful as Raph is, I most definitely know the feeling.
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed! Feel free to leave a comment/kudos if you did- every one is really appreciated.


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